A Dash of Cinnamon
by heartofstele
Summary: Late night. Finals week. Two strangers. A cup of romance. It's a Coffee Shop AU that every couple needs.


**Disclaimer: All the normal jargon. We don't own the Mortal Instruments. If we did, the story would revolve around Simon and Isabelle.**

* * *

Simon Lewis had just picked up another late night shift at Java Jones and he was utterly exhausted from staying up the night before studying for his Computer Science final. Unfortunately, all the coffee goers tonight were here for the free Wi-Fi and caffeine boost for finals week which meant Java Jones was offering their 'Up All Night" study hours. Groaning as he clocked in for his shift, he tied his light blue apron around his waist and tried to mentally prepare himself for the next four hours of his graveyard shift.

He readied himself a cup of coffee to keep himself awake - one pump of caramel, one pump of vanilla, an extra shot of espresso, light on the sweetener, heavy on the soy milk, hold the whip cream - same as always.

"Finally you're here." his red-headed best friend greeted him. "There's so many customers tonight." She groaned, "I've got a final tomorrow too, you know?"

"Your art portfolio?" Simon asked as he drank from his coffee, hoping its effects would kick in soon.

She nodded as the door chime rang in a new customer. "Realism 14A. The assignment is still-life. Produce a painting that's "real enough that you could grab it from the canvas" as the professor said in class." She glanced at the door, noting another female student walking in with a black laptop bag with a bright blue stripe running the length of it and a black purse with a gold chain. The dark-haired student had glanced around before heading determinedly towards a table that was already occupied.

"Can you take that table? I don't think that guy sitting there likes me..."

"What did you do this time, Clary?"

"I think his name's Alec. He sometimes comes in with this gorgeous blonde who might have slipped me his number once." Clary laughed, not daring to look at the judgment on Simon's face. She did, however, glance back at the table quickly before adding dejectedly, "He's not here today though."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Your taste in boys have always been questionable. But sure," he replied straightening himself out and grabbing a menu and an order pad from the drawer before walking over to their table.

"Good evening. My name is Simon and I will be your server for tonight," he began his spiel and handed the girl a menu as he finally got a good look at her. She had striking eyes lined with dark black and slender lips painted with bright red lipstick. He instantly felt flustered. "Let-let me know if you need any refills," he addressed Alec before looking back at the girl. "And I will be right back to take your order."

She handed him the menu back. "I'll just have my usual actually. Caramel and vanilla coffee. An extra shot of espresso. Not too much sweetener and extra soy milk. Hold the whip cream, please. Oh, and a dash of cinnamon."

Simon stood dumbstruck like he had just seen a ghost before he realized he had been staring far too long. "R-right," he flipped open his pad of paper and hurriedly scribbled the word '_cinnamon'_ across it. "I'll have that ready for you in just a moment."

She flashed him a smile before saying, "Thanks, Simon."

He awkwardly smiled back and rushed back to the counter but not before hearing Alec commenting lightly, "I think you scared the waiter, Isabelle."

Simon flushed as he started to brew another batch of coffee. Clary raised an eyebrow while pointing to a pot of coffee on the side, "You know I made some just a few minutes ago, right?"

"Oh right," he placed his order pad on the counter and reached for a new mug from the shelf.

"This order just says cinnamon on it, Simon," Clary pointed out, confused. "Did she want a cinnamon pastry or something? I think we're out of cinnamon rolls."

"No, actually," he scratched at the back of his neck. "She ordered a caramel and vanilla coffee. An extra shot of espresso. Not too much sweetener and extra soy milk. Hold the whip cream." he rattled off Isabelle's, or rather _his_, order to her. "Oh, and a dash of cinnamon."

Clary looked back at the table with a surprised look on her face, "Simon, ever since you started drinking coffee eight years ago, that has always been your ridiculously specific order. Minus the cinnamon."

Simon shrugged and looked just as confused as Clary looked.

"And the tall, hot, brunette over at table 7 also likes the same ridiculous coffee you do?"

"Plus a dash of cinnamon," he added as if it made a difference. He had finished making the cup of coffee already and was holding the cinnamon above the mug. "How much is a dash?"

Clary sighed and grabbed the jar from him. "This much," she said as she lightly tapped the jar. A small layer of crimson powder sat atop the finished mug of coffee. "Have you not been working here for a few years Simon?"

Without granting Clary a reply, he quickly placed the mug on a small plate, grabbed a couple napkins, and headed back towards Isabelle's table. "Here you are." He set the mug of coffee in front of her along with the napkins. "Let me know if I can do anything else for you."

Alec signaled Simon to stay as she lightly sipped the cup of coffee. She let out a breath in satisfaction. "This is perfect."

"Thanks," Simon smiled, pleased with himself. "The caramel and vanilla does tend to be overly sweet if it weren't for the extra espresso in there. The extra soy milk really balances it out as well." He cleared his throat and stopped himself before he got into the science of brewing the perfect pot of coffee. "I really like coffee."

"Well, Simon. It looks like I found my new coffee place," she smiled at him and took another sip of coffee. "Which is good because I'm going to need it if I even dream about passing this calculus final."

"It might help if you actually studied once in awhile," Alec berated.

"Don't start. We all know physics is your worst subject and the only reason you're doing so well is because you're sleeping with the professor." Isabelle glared at her brother.

He lowered his voice, eyes widening, "It was one date and we were discussing my grade."

Simon cleared his throat to declare his presence since they obviously forgot that he was still standing there. They both turned their heads to look up at him. "Sorry, I just noticed your textbook and," he hesitated, "That's Professor Santiago's class right? I took his class last semester and he's tough but fair. I could, you know , tutor you if you'd like." He instantly felt like a complete idiot for suggesting it.

She contemplated the idea to herself as she sipped her coffee. "What time are you off tonight?"

"Not until 3 am actually," he laughed nervously, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "It's going to be a pretty long night."

"Well, my brother tends to leave around 2, but if you're up for it, " Isabelle began to scribble on a sheet of paper in her notebook. She tore it out with a loud ripping sound and handed the paper to Simon. "Bring the coffee?"

Simon slowly took the sheet of paper from her hands and looked down at it. In very nice curvy writing was what appeared to be a phone number and address. Alec's eyes glanced back and forth between his sister and this coffee barista. Simon stood there slack-jawed for just about the third time that night until he snapped out of his lucid stare. "Sure," he answered slowly, not even bothering to cover up his tone of disbelief.

"Great, I'm Isabelle, by the way. See you then, Simon," she winked before turning back to her textbook.

"Great," he repeated back. He turned on the balls of his feet and made a beeline to Clary who was obviously watching the entire thing as it played out.

The second he got back behind the counter, she snatched the paper from his hands and looked at it. "So," she began, "Cute girl at table 7 who likes the exact same coffee as you do, just gave you her number." She explained it out loud as if it would have made the entire situation even more believable.

Simon snatched the paper back and shoved it into his pocket. "I just offered to tutor her. Not a big deal."

"For once your nerd charm actually got you a date."

"Study session. Not a date." he insisted, his face flushing since, date or not, he was about to be spending a very late night with a complete but beautiful stranger whom he just met.

The late night continued with the same traffic of regulars, tired and frazzled students attempting to pull all-nighters by filling their bodies with caffeine and sugar. Simon was extremely grateful that he had already finished all of his finals. And, just like Isabelle said, 2 o'clock rolled around and he noticed Alec shuffling his things into his messenger bag while yawning. He was greatly aware of Isabelle, with her dark hair now messily tied into a bun, also tidying her things into her purse as she stood up. Walking towards the door with one arm linked with Alec's and the other at her purse, she put a hand to her ear and gestured for him to call her. Alec, noticing the gesture, tugged Isabelle out the door.

Sighing, Simon was at a loss of what to do once his shift had ended. Leaning against the counter, his apron bunched up in one hand and the paper with Isabelle number in his other, Simon once again asked himself what in the world had he gotten himself into.

"You should at least text her, you know." Clary's voice called out to him from the other side of the counter. She was holding a fresh pot of coffee in her hand, already half empty. "Even if you decide not to go."

"I think I'm going to go," Simon's eyes never leaving the sheet of paper as if he expected it to catch on fire.

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

He finally looked up, "Yeah, I mean, what's the worse that could happen?"

"She could walk all over your heart in those high heels of hers." Clary pointed out, with a tone of worry in her voice.

"Again. That's only if this was a date. Which it isn't." Simon reiterated. He stuffed his apron into one of the drawers and pulled his phone of his pocket. He slowly started entering Isabelle's number onto his phone and typed out a message. "_Off work. On my way. This is Simon, from the coffee shop, by the way." _He let out a giant huff of breath upon hitting send and felt his stomach drop.

Simon fastened the lid on two "to-go" coffee cups when he heard his phone buzz.

"_See you - Isabelle" _the text message read out.

"I guess I'm heading out now," Simon called out to Clary as she was busy making an order for one of the tables.

"Okay! Jordan's here but I have to wait until Maia gets here too until I can get off. Shouldn't take too long. Go on ahead to your date!" she called out teasingly.

"Not a date!" he called out before disappearing out the door holding a tray of their coffee. He began to input her address on his phone to figure out if he needed to drive far before taking out his car keys. Surprisingly, her house was only a couple of blocks away. Knowing he'd be too tired to walk back after, he unlocked his car and started up the engine.

'_I can't believe I'm doing this," _he kept thinking the entire car ride. He finally pulled up to the address on the paper and started to glance around in slight confusion. The house he pulled up to looked almost like it was on it's way to becoming a mansion. He read over the address again. Sure enough, this was the right place. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel before persuading himself to finally get out.

The front was gated with only a small buzzer box next to it. He hesitated and bounced nervously on his feet contemplating if he should just call her on his cell instead.

"Aren't you going in?" a voice asked from behind him. Standing there was a fairly tall, golden-haired guy dressed in leather, a jacket slung over one shoulder. Simon couldn't help but wonder if this was Clary's "cute blond" she was talking about and only further questioned her taste, especially since the blonde was looking at him as if he were stupid and incapable of entering someone's house.

"I would ask if you were here to see Isabelle but you're hardly her type." He gave Simon a quick once over. "I doubt you're really Alec's either."

"Actually I _am_ here to see Isabelle," Simon started to answer, debating if he should leave out the fact that he was really just here to tutor her. "I was just about to call her."

"Well, you're not really built to be a serial killer. She could do worse I suppose," he walked up to the gate and hit the button. "Isabelle, it's Jace," he spoke into the device. The gate buzzed and Jace gave it a push open and led them both to the front door which opened up revealing not Isabelle, but Alec who was, despite the fact wearing pajamas, glaring at Jace menacingly. Simon noticed that Alec barely spared him a glance.

"You're late, Jace."

"Alec it's barely 3. You don't have to watch over me."

Alec raised an eyebrow and pointed out flatly, "It's 3:30. And I do, actually, because the last time no one did, you crashed your car into our front door. "

"It was one time!"

Alec put both his hands up in exasperation, "It shouldn't even have happened at all! You still owe -"

"Simon!" a voice came from behind where Alec was standing. "You made it." Simon felt relieved upon seeing Isabelle. He felt like he was caught in the middle of an argument between a married couple.

Jace leaned on the door frame, "Yes. I found him groveling at the front door waiting for you."

Simon blushed, his cheeks becoming incredibly hot despite the cold night air. He couldn't help but notice Isabelle now adorning a simple tank top and short. "I," he stammered, "I brought you coffee."

"And you didn't bring any for us?" Jace asked, "I'd think you would try to make a better impression on her brothers."

Isabelle rolled her eyes as she walked up to Simon and gently tugged on his arm. "You'll learn to ignore him. Come on, my room's this way."

"Door open!" Alec called out to the two of them while Isabelle continued to guide Simon away from Jace and Alec.

She led them down a long hallway before she had opened the door that clearly read 'ISABELLE' across the front, her hand detaching from his arm. Walking into Isabelle's room, he noticed her giant queen sized bed where her textbook and sheets of paper were carelessly spread around. She hopped onto her bed tucking her legs underneath her. Simon, unsure if he should follow her lead, awkwardly held out one of the cups and asked, "Would you like your coffee?"

"Sure," she shuffled over on her bed trying to make room for him next to her. Simon hesitated, questioning if it was an invitation for him to take, before approaching her bed cautiously. He sat on the edge of her bed and handed her her coffee before taking his and sipping on it.

Isabelle's lips remained grazing at the edge of her coffee lid while she stared at the notes on her bed. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"So what are you currently stuck on?" Simon asked, realizing that he should take the lead in gauging just how much studying she needed.

She sighed before nudging her book with her foot towards him, "I hate it all. But, I've got everything down but series'. So, we could start there?" Isabelle suggested.

"Well, luckily, Professor Santiago doesn't put much emphasis on series' on his finals. He'll put one or two questions on the free response that will just ask you the purpose of series, but your main focus should be knowing when and how to use the different tests for them. It helps to have them written all together in some sort of chart."

Isabelle stared at him, eyes wide, as if he started speaking a different language.

Simon realized he might have lost her somewhere, "To determine if the series converge or diverge," he started to explain slower. Isabelle continued to stare at him, blankness in her eyes as she was desperately trying to wrap her brain around what he was saying. "Alright so, definition of a series."

A couple of hours must've passed as streams of sunlight began pouring into Isabelle's room. They were making progress as she was able to solve a few problems correctly, now that they've gotten through all the tests and have written them quite messily on one sheet of paper. Isabelle had repositioned herself onto her stomach while Simon sat next to her, leaning his weight onto one arm. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to reach his limit as he kept trying to shake the sleep off his system.

He began to nod off when he caught his arm slipping out from underneath him and brushing up against Isabelle's. He rubbed the strains in his neck and let out a big yawn. Isabelle followed suit with a yawn after.

"Do you want to get some sleep?" Isabelle suggested as she started putting her notes together and placing them on the bedside table with her textbook.

Simon looked at the clock on Isabelle's side table and noticed that it was just past 6:45 in the morning. "Oh, I didn't even realize what time it was. I should probably go." He started to get up off her bed.

"Are you sure? It's late. Well, early. You haven't slept yet so it might not be safe for you to drive." She went back to her bed, curling up underneath her blanket as she yawned again. Pointing to a nearby sofa, she suggested, "You could take the sofa." She said this with an air so casual as if she frequently had random boys spend the night on her couch. Perhaps she did.

Torn between wanting to stay in the presence of a girl as pretty as Isabelle and the fact that he just met her a mere five hours ago, Simon decided that the latter was not going to interfere with the incredible former and shuffled towards the couch in her room. He had enough sleepovers at Clary's to know that this was nothing like any of those times. It wasn't until he was laying on her couch with the blankets over him that he realized just how difficult it was for his mind to rest. What was he even doing in Isabelle's room, offering to tutor her and then sleeping over? And then he thought of her eyes looking at him at his coffee shop, the smile on her face as she complimented him, and it was as if he had answered his own question.

Simon squinted as the sun hit his eyes. Groaning, he sat up slowly and surveyed his surrounding, not quite remembering at what point he fell asleep. Realizing that he was definitely not at home, he shot out of the sofa nearly tripping his legs over the tangled blanket. He let out a breath as he realized that Isabelle was still peacefully asleep on her bed, her books and notes neatly stacked on her desk along with their nearly empty coffee cups. It reminded him just how empty his stomach was so he figured the least he could do was show his gratitude by making breakfast.

He quietly crept out of her room hoping not to wake her and tried to navigate down the hallways in search of the kitchen. He stumbled onto the most well-stocked kitchen he had seen in his life. Pans of varying sizes lined the walls, the cabinets filled with ceramic plates and cups of different colors, and an array of various fruits sat atop the counter. Everything pristine and hardly touched.

The first thing he found in the pantry was a new box of pancake mix. Good enough. He did take note of the fact that almost everything in the pantry was unopened which was almost unsettling. He half expected Alfred the Butler to walk out any minute. He began to open and search through the rest of the drawers and cabinets, taking out items that he knew he'd need to make a fairly decent breakfast.

He must had lost track of time while he was pouring the batter on a hot pan when Isabelle sauntered into the kitchen looking as if she had not been sleeping just a little while ago. She crept up behind him unnoticed until she said, "And you cook? Pancakes? How -."

"- cute, you'd make the perfect wife" Jace's voice called out from behind him, his tone dripping with amusement. "I see you spent the night-"

"- and I see you're about to leave." Isabelle said, one of her hands waving him away.

Jace put a hand up defensively. "Just passing through. Word of advice. Don't let Isabelle touch anything."

"Go away," Isabelle glared at him which shut him up enough for him to leave. Simon was dumb struck, wondering how long Isabelle and Jace had been standing there while he was tiredly trying to make pancakes.

"Sorry about him," Isabelle apologized. "Jace is, well, he's Jace," she explained trying to sum him up. "I promise he has his moments."

"Don't worry about it. Thanks for the couch."

She nodded in reply, her focus now on the pancakes that Simon had piled on a plate. "Are these for just me? I hope you made enough for the both of us."

"Sure, I mean, if you want me to stay."

She shrugged. "We didn't really get to finish going over everything last night."

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted over them as the machine beeped, signaling its completion. "Let me get that. Do you mind taking over?" Simon held the spatula out towards Isabelle, ignoring Jace's warning.

"Sure. I love cooking." She took the spatula from his hand and traded spots with him.

"Impressive kitchen by the way," he said to her, pouring coffee into two mugs for them. "It's even better stocked than work which is surprising since almost everything is also untouched." He started pulling out all his coffee essentials.

"We don't cook much here. My mom never taught me when I was younger so now this is mostly for show." Turning off the stove, she noticed him taking out syrups and the carton of soy milk from the fridge and pouring them into both mugs. She looked slightly puzzled. "You know that you are more than welcome to grab the other milk and syrups for your coffee, right? Or is that how you normally take your coffee?"

Simon instantly stopped pouring and placed the carton on the counter. He started to laugh nervously. "Crazy thing actually," he tried to explain. "This is, exactly how I normally take my coffee."

"Is that why you make my coffee so well?"

"I was hoping that was my actual barista skills, but I've been making this," he nodded to the two finished mugs sans cinnamon, "for about … eight years now?"

She walked over to the two mugs in awe and picked one up, tasting it. "Well, Simon. Eight years and you're still missing one thing." She rummaged through the spice cabinet and pulled out a small spice shaker. "Cinnamon."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't actually take my coffee with cinnamon."

"Trust me on this one." She began to shake out the cinnamon on top of each mug of coffee until a neat layer covered the surface.

Simon grabbed his mug and looked at it, the smell of cinnamon incredibly strong. "Well, cheers," and took a large swig of it. Instantly, the strong fragrant of spice mixed with the sweetness of caramel and vanilla invaded his taste buds in some wonderful harmony that he had been missing in his years of coffee indulgences.

Isabelle watched him eagerly. "Well?"

"Iz, this is awesome!" He stared at the mug in his hands before looking back at her. She was smiling at him, looking incredibly pleased.

"Consider it my thank you for helping me study." She sat down with extra plates and utensils. "Anyway, come have a seat before breakfast gets cold." Simon finally noticed the stack of pancakes on the table; Isabelle's burnt oblong shaped pancakes rested haphazardly atop his perfectly rounded ones.

He brought the two mugs of coffee over and mentally wished he had taken Jace seriously and to not let her attempt to cook anything next time. He had to stop himself. As if there would even be a next time. Despite the burned pancakes, he kind of hoped there would be.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Leaving already?"

He capped the two cinnamon topped coffee to-go cups, "Yeah. I'm surprising Izzy today. It's the last day of her class and her final should end soon."

Clary sighed at her best friend, "I can't believe I haven't even gotten to meet your girlfriend yet."

Simon's movements came to stop, "She's not my girlfriend."

"I know. I know. And that wasn't a date, Simon. Just an innocent studying, sleepover, making breakfast together non-date." To be honest, Simon wasn't sure what it was. He wished he could say that these types of things were normal but they weren't, not for him at least.

"Anyway, I'll catch up with you later." He rushed out the door.

He had texted her earlier that morning to let him know how she did afterwards so he was eagerly awaiting a message from her. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Placing the cups down on a nearby bench, he tapped a few buttons on his phone and saw her text reading, _"I'm done!"_

Simon grabbed the cups again while he looked around as students began to pour out of the classroom, none of which were Isabelle. Finally he caught a flash of red lips and long black hair approaching him excitedly. "I see you did well."

"Better than well thanks to you! Everything you told me to study was on there!" Her voice was more excited than he had ever heard before and he couldn't help but note how cute he found it.

She made a motion of reaching for the coffee but instead gently pulled him to her before kissing him on the cheek, her red lipstick staining his cheek. She then grabbed the warm to-go cup, smiling up at him as he stood there in shock.

He visibly shook out of his speechlessness while she lightly sipped her coffee and sighed in contentment. The lipstick on his cheek still burned as he made no move to wipe it off his face. Instead he attempted at nonchalance by taking a sip of his drink, keeping mind of its temperature. However, he couldn't help but keep glancing at Isabelle, afraid that she would disappear if he looked away for too long because even though they had just met, Simon couldn't help but want her to stay. She was like a dash of cinnamon to his life. Sweet and fragrant yet anything but subtle-Something he hadn't thought he needed, but now he couldn't imagine without.


End file.
